


Whumptober 2020 05 On The Run

by frankie_mcstein



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Hiding, Kidnapping, Protective boys, Tension, Whumptober 2020, crappy interrogation techniques, drugged Magnum, hurt Higgins, hurt magnum, protective Magnum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_mcstein/pseuds/frankie_mcstein
Summary: Whumptober 2020 prompt 5- On The RunThey just needed to hide. Hide, and stay quiet. Nice and quiet. He can't let them find her. He can't let them hurt her anymore.
Relationships: Juliet Higgins & Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947172
Comments: 32
Kudos: 70





	Whumptober 2020 05 On The Run

**Author's Note:**

> Here there be whump!

She gave a whimper as her arm bumped against his side. She tried to choke it down, he could tell. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and held her breath, but the tiny sound that escaped still seemed to echo in the corridor. He pulled her tightly against his side as she grabbed her injured arm with her other hand and held it against her chest, going white at the pain. But she didn't make a sound. 

His stomach churned at the idea of being proud of her for handling the agony of moving her broken arm without a cry escaping her lips. But he couldn't deny that he was relieved at the silence. There had been too much noise, and it had made it too easy for the heavily armed carjackers to follow them. It was sheer dumb luck that one of their pursuers had stepped on the Ferrari keys and set off the alarm, the noise masking the creaking of the door as he yanked it open. And every gasp she gave, every cry, no matter how quickly she choked them off, put them at risk of being discovered all over again.

"Just try to stay quiet," he muttered, not sure she could hear him over the way her breath seemed to hitch with every inhale. "Please, girl, just try." He hated it. He wanted to let her sit down and catch her breath while he whipped up a quick makeshift sling for her arm. He dearly wanted to wrap her chest somehow, to stop the ribs he was sure were broken from moving around and poking and stabbing at her lungs. His fingers itched just to clean away the blood that was trickling down her face and arms. 

But all those things would take time they didn't have. And it would hurt her, making her cry out, and they would be heard. They couldn't be heard. They needed to stay quiet. They needed to be so very, very quiet.

"Higgy?" Magnum barely breathed out as he said her name. For a moment, he thought he had been too quiet, thought he was going to have to speak up, speak louder, make more noise, and his stomach twisted at the thought. Then he felt her head lift from where it had sagged against him, and he looked down at her far too pale face.

"Do we go up?" Sure, he had worked military intelligence and he had some experience at covert operations, but she had worked MI6 and then private security; he was happy to admit she was far more experienced at the whole 'being sneaky to stay alive' thing. He watched as she looked at the dust-covered stairs, saw how she was struggling to focus, and felt a rush of worry surge through him. 

She pulled away from him slightly, turning her head, and, for the smallest fraction of a second, Magnum thought she was trying to move away completely. He imagined, in the briefest of moments, that she was delirious from pain and blood loss, that she wasn't seeing him but their attackers, that she thought he was one of the men who had tied her to a workbench. But she just turned her head slightly to look back along the hallway they had just staggered down, and he realized she was looking at the tracks they had left behind them, a small droplet of blood on the carpet that seemed, to Magnum's panicked gaze, to be flashing a neon red. 

"You're right," he whispered, not needing her to explain her thinking. "We're making it too obvious. If we go upstairs, there's no way they won't follow us." He didn't need to add that they would be trapped. There was no way either of them would be able to escape from an upper floor of the old office building; Higgins was only still upright because Magnum was supporting her, and he wasn't in great shape himself after being beaten and drugged. 

"We need to get out." Her voice was so quiet. So strained. She was struggling not to let the pain take control. It was as if, the instant she opened her mouth, her body wanted her to scream and it was all she could do to resist the impulse. He could see the muscles in her neck bunch slightly as she fought to control her volume, and he ever so gently pulled her back against his side, offering what little comfort he could.

'I've got you,' he hoped his arm around her shoulders was saying. 'I won't let them touch you again.' He didn't know how he was going to stop them. His body was still shaking slightly from the whatever-the-heck it was they had injected into him. It had burned like fire and made every muscle twitch and shake. And he was aching from the blows he had taken, his only reward for trying to stop their captors from hurting Higgins. But he couldn't dwell on his own injuries, not when he knew she was counting on him to keep her safe.

He had been tied to a chair, blindfolded, and forced to listen to the all too familiar sound of flesh on flesh, her cries of pain ringing in his ears. They hadn't even asked either of them any sensible questions, offered any way for them to make it stop. The same words had been repeated over and over. 

"Who did you tell?"

He didn't know what they were talking about, had begged them to believe him. It was when he heard the unmistakable, sickening crack of a bone breaking that he had started insulting the parentage of the men who were holding them in a desperate attempt to take their attention off of her. They had hit him a few times, stars exploding in his vision with every blow. He was sure at least one of them had been wearing knuckle dusters. And then they had gone back to Higgins and done something that had made her shriek. 

He started forward again, adjusting his hand down slightly as she staggered at the movement. A tiny, heart-wrenching mewl of pain built in her throat, squashed down by a force of will. He felt his own throat tighten at the sound, but there was nothing he could do to help except what he was already doing; supporting her weight and keeping her moving.

There must be another door somewhere, a fire door maybe, if not a regular exit. Knowing their luck, whatever door they found would be chained shut. Padlocked. Rusted. Impossible to open and noisy to try. And they couldn't make any noise. Their pursuers would hear it, follow it, find them. Magnum could feel Higgins shaking against him as she fought for every step he was forcing her to take. His own body was trembling, muscles twitching, shivers running along his spine. There was no way they could fend off an attack. They would be lucky if they could just keep moving.

A bang sounded, far off, echoing, but coming from inside the building with them. Magnum felt a surge of panic welling up. The men who had dragged them both out of the Ferrari at gunpoint, who had hurt Higgins so badly, who had threatened to do so much worse to her, who had slipped a needle into his arm, they were getting closer.

"We're not going to get away," he whispered, not getting the slightest response from Higgins. Whether she was just too exhausted to reply or whether she was too far gone to hear him, he didn't know. 

A shudder ran through him, pulling hard against his protesting muscles, and his hand slipped off her shoulder. She swayed, not seeming able to hold her own body upright, and he was so afraid she might fall, of the noise it would make as her body hit the floor, of how loudly she would cry out at the impact, that he wrapped his arm too tightly back around her. 

She gasped at the pressure, a short, sharp sound that cut into him; he had hurt her. He felt his heart jump in his chest at the thought. He wanted to apologize. He needed to check he hadn't caused any more damage. But there was another noise coming down the passageway toward them. 

They must have heard Higgins' gasp.

'The gasp you made her give,' his mind hissed at him in shock. 'If they get their hands on her now, if they track her down from that sound, it'll be your fault. You hurt her. You hurt her!'

Magnum shook his head hard, feeling dizzy and sick as he did but needing to shake off the thoughts that were running riot through his mind. It was the carjackers who had hurt her, not him. It was the carjackers he needed to be worried about right now; they were searching the building. They were getting closer. And, regardless of whether they had heard Higgins or not, there was no way anyone could fail to spot the two of them if they stayed where they were.

Magnum took another step forward and winced as he felt Higgins' chest hitch at the movement.

"I'm sorry." He knew he was taking a big risk by saying anything, even in such a low voice that he could barely hear it himself. But he needed her to know that he hadn't hurt her deliberately, that he wasn't making her hurt on purpose. "Just keep quiet. I've got you." He hoped that promise meant something. He hoped she trusted him to keep her safe. He hoped he wasn't going to betray that trust.

They just needed somewhere to hide. Somewhere to tuck themselves away while the carjackers searched. Somewhere to sit and breathe and rest. Somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. They had to be quiet. They had to be so quiet.

So when he realized she was panting, that she was in too much pain to control her breathing, that she was simply too far gone to move and breathe quietly, his stomach started to churn. Leaving a trail that his mind insisted could be followed by a five-year-old was bad enough. But making so much noise was a death sentence. There was nowhere they could hide where they wouldn't be overheard.

For a second or two, he toyed with the idea of tucking her away somewhere and carrying on alone, kicking up a racket and leading them away from her. But he discounted the idea immediately. The chances of him getting away were low, and, as soon as they caught up with him and saw that he was alone, they would go looking for Higgins. And she would be defenseless. No, he had to stay with her. He had to protect her.

She wasn't moving. Magnum took a step, and his arm tugged against her. He looked at her in sheer, mind-numbing fear, expecting to see her eyes close and her body fall. Instead, she was staring fixedly at something on the wall. A door? He peered at it, his vision hazy, trying to make out the sign.

Cleaning Cupboard

He blinked; he had been telling himself to just stay quiet for so long that another thought seemed slow and thick. But finally, finally, when the men hunting them were so close the beams of their flashlights were visible at the end of the corridor, he managed to move toward the door. Higgins sucked in a breath as they turned slightly, and Magnum's drug-addled brain went back to screaming at him that they needed to be quieter.

'Too loud!' it yelled, panic and fear warring for prime place. 'It's all too loud! They'll hear your footsteps, your heartbeat!' He knew the drugs he'd been given were to blame, messing with his body and his mind, but that didn't make it any easier to ignore the feelings bubbling up inside of him.

He reached for the door, closing his eyes against the sheer force of the yelling in his head, screaming that the hinges would squeak. The door opened, shadows of boxes loomed in front of them, and Magnum took a step forward, pulling Higgins along with him.

Her breathing was getting louder, more ragged. He was worried about what it meant, how bad her injuries were. But he was more worried about how her self control seemed to be slipping further and further away from her. About how impossible it would be for them to escape if they were captured a second time. About how even idiot carjackers would have learned their lesson after untying him the first time. About how they had grinned as they had told him what they were going to make him watch them do to Higgins.

'Hide,' his mind whispered frantically. 'Hide. And stay quiet.'

He peered at the boxes, confused by the picture on the side. It was just a lot of thin lines with another, slightly thicker line enclosing them. Paper, he decided. Then he spotted a gap beneath some shelves on the wall that looked big enough for them both to sit and realized the contents didn't matter. What mattered was whether or not he could move them.

"C'mon," he breathed, turning slightly so he could keep Higgins tucked up against him as he tugged her carefully along. "Just a few more steps."

She nearly screamed as he lowered her to the floor. A squeak escaped, and then she pressed her balled up fist to her mouth. It meant she was no longer cradling her broken arm, and the movement cost her dearly. He could see her chest heaving, the hand against her lips shaking, the blood on her pale skin as her teeth broke it open. But he could also see the light from a flashlight sweeping under the door, and he let go of her.

He turned to the back of the small cupboard and saw two more boxes, tops thick with dust. He wasn't sure he could move them without disturbing it, but it was pretty much their only shot. He heard the click of a door as the room next to them was opened, and he moved quickly. He grabbed one box and put it on top of the box by the door, then put the other on top of the box in front of the shelves.

And then, as the handle on the cupboard door turned, all he could do was drop down next to Higgins, wrap his arm back around her, and hope their flimsy little hiding place would be enough. The flashlight burst in on them, making Magnum blink. Higgins simply closed her eyes, struggling with too much pain to be able to deal with the brightness that was startling after the gloomy evening darkness of the abandoned building. 

She turned her head and pressed her bruised face against Magnum's chest, stifling a whimper. He could feel the heat of her shallow breaths through his shirt and squeezed her shoulder as hard as he dared, hoping she would take it as encouragement and not as a warning. She knew she needed to stay quiet, she knew she would be killing them both if she led their attackers to them. Magnum wondered, in the strange calmness that had settled over him when the door opened and there was nothing else he could do but wait to be found, if she was fighting for herself or for him. It wouldn't be the first time this aggravating conundrum of a woman had driven herself above and beyond what a body should be capable of for his sake.

He felt her sigh, some tiny fraction of the tension easing from her, and realized with a shock the cupboard was dark. The door was closed. The man had gone. They had made it. His breath escaped him in a rush, relief flooding through him and making his aching head spin.

And was washed away by a sickening feeling as his ears picked up on the small whine that escaped from Higgins as she breathed out. He shifted, moving around so her back was leaning against his chest. Visions of broken ribs and punctured lungs and limbs lost to compartment syndrome whirled through his head. He wanted to tell her she was going to be fine. That he had missed his meeting with Katsumoto and that the detective was bound to have officers crawling all over the island looking for them. That Rick and T.C. would be front and center and they wouldn't stop until they had their family back in one piece. 

Instead he found himself pleading with her to stay quiet. To try and breathe through the pain. To squeeze his hand. To just please keep fighting for a little while longer. 

"You can do this," he whispered, not even sure she could hear him but not daring to raise his voice; he could still hear footsteps and another flashlight seemed to be getting closer to the door of their hiding spot. "Just stay quiet, Juliet. You can do this. You can stay quiet. I know you can."

His hand was burning where her fingers were wrapped around it, crushing the skin into the bones beneath. His free hand was resting high on her chest, and he could feel the way she was struggling to breathe, the way her chest rose, stopped, and rose again as she inhaled in stages, unable to take a full breath in. 

A choked sound, low and pathetic and so full of pain, was rising in the back of her throat, a keening wail that she was fighting so hard to keep back. Footsteps came up to the cupboard door and stopped, and Magnum had clamped his hand over Higgins' mouth before he even realized he had moved. He could hear the two men talking, discussing where they should look next, and how ridiculous it was that they hadn't just killed the interfering P.I. and his girlfriend.

Magnum was barely breathing, desperate to avoid making a single sound. He kept his hand pressed down hard on Higgins' face, his heart lurching at the thought of what would happen to her if they were recaptured.

"Hush now." He pressed his mouth right up against her ear; he could feel her skin tickling his lips. "Stay quiet. You need to stay quiet."

The light from the flashlight was still leaching into the cupboard beneath the door. Magnum could see the tan of his own skin against the ashen tone of Higgins' face. He could see tears trickling down her cheeks, glinting in the pale light. And he could hear her cries of pain, smothered by her sheer stubbornness, trapped by his hand, but getting louder. 

Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Something had to be seriously wrong for Higgins to be so incapable of controlling herself. To his ears, she may as well have been screaming already, and he pressed down harder against her mouth, trying to simultaneously help her and warn her.

Her eyes opened and looked up at him; it was still dark, but he was sure he could see gratitude in her eyes. And it made him feel sick. His hand looked so big against her slim face, brutish and ungainly. He was sure he was hurting her. And she was grateful. Grateful that he was stopping her from simply screaming like she so clearly wanted to do.

It was so wrong. His fingers marking her skin, and there would be marks, he knew. His hand bruising her lips, pressing the delicate flesh into the teeth beneath it. He was meant to be protecting her, keeping her safe, not hurting her. She needed to stay quiet, and she couldn't, and his hand gagging her was helping.

But it was just so very wrong. It was making his stomach churn. Her face felt cold beneath his bruising grip, and he couldn't keep it up. He couldn't keep smothering her. And he was suddenly sure that was what he was doing. He was abruptly convinced that her chest was heaving because of his hand over her mouth. Because he was stopping her from breathing in his panic.

He loosened his grip, just a little, and, as he did, the handle on the door twisted again. Higgins let go of the hand she had been squeezing, the blood rushing back to his fingers making him wince. He froze as he felt her fingers slide on top of his hand and press down firmly.

She knew she couldn't stay quiet on her own. She knew she needed to. She knew she needed his help. He wondered if she also knew how hard it was for him. Then the door swung open, and it didn't matter. All that mattered was staying quiet and not getting caught. So he obeyed the wordless command and pressed down again as she held her breath beneath him. 

The light played over the walls as a man's voice, sounding sulky, insisted he had already checked that room. The light swung around, the door closed, and Higgins went sickeningly limp. 

Magnum froze for a split second, his mind refusing to process anything other than that fact, the sure and certain knowledge that he had killed her. He couldn't hear her, couldn't feel her breathing, couldn't call her name. All he could do was sit there and hold her and feel the pain of losing her tear through him.

And then she breathed in.

Magnum felt lightheaded from the relief. He took his hand away from her face, lifting it slowly, almost afraid she would cry out as soon as her mouth was free. She didn't react at all, didn't even stir. Even as her hand fell away from his to drop to her chest, she stayed still and quiet. But she was breathing. It was too shallow, too fast, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was still alive.

Magnum shifted again, settling her back more comfortably against him. He could feel her shoulders shifting against his chest and let his head fall back against the wall. His hand moved down, resting lightly against the pulse that was beating, rapid and light, in her throat. His other hand he let slide down, and he wrapped his arm around her, careful to avoid her ribs, careful not to hold her too tightly.

“‘S okay, Jul’et,” he whispered, feeling the words slur and wondering idly if it was because of an injury or the drugs. “I got... gotchya.” Oh, but he was feeling so tired. His head was spinning, and he could feel his heart skipping a little as the adrenaline that had been keeping him going finally started to ebb. He couldn’t fall asleep; staying awake was second only to staying quiet in terms of importance. But his eyes were so heavy. He realized they had slid closed, tried to open them again, and failed miserably. He would just have to hope the men hunting them were satisfied this cupboard was empty. Even thinking of the things they had said, the things that they had threatened, wasn't enough for him to fight off the darkness that was tugging at him. As the men split up again, footsteps thumping up the stairs, Magnum dropped into unconsciousness.

…

Katsumoto had sounded disappointed when he had called T.C. to ask if he or Rick had any idea where Magnum was. “It’s not as if I really expected him to be on time. But he could at least make an effort to actually show up."

Magnum going off the grid, forgetting a meeting, and refusing to answer his cell was one thing. A thing that most people who knew him came to terms with quite quickly. But T.C. knew Higgins had left with Magnum that morning, and for her to pull a Magnum-like disappearing act? That was bad news. Not so long back, Magnum’s friends might have assumed the blonde had killed the SEAL in a fit of indescribable exasperation and was busily hiding the body. But now? Now that the pair were business partners? Now that they knew, for a fact, that Higgins would rather die than let anything happen to Magnum? Now, T.C. was instantly convinced something was very wrong.

He put his cell on speaker, mouthing 'trouble' to Rick as he did.

"Can you ping their phones?" T.C. asked as Rick hurried over, leaning over the bar to better hear the conversation.

Katsumoto sighed. "Magnum's late for a meeting. He hasn't been abducted."

"Jules was with him this morning," Rick chimed in. "She doesn't like it when Tommy skips appointments; she'd have made him show up."

Katsumoto didn't answer right away, and the two men just looked at each other as the silence dragged on, worry on their faces.

"Fine." Katsumoto didn't sound at all happy. "But if I find out they just stopped for coffee, I'm going to arrest all four of you for wasting my time." The phone beeped as the call ended.

"You really think something's wrong?" Rick was giving T.C. a curious look, trying to gauge how concerned he really was.

"It's Thomas." T.C. shrugged as he spoke. "If anyone can get in trouble while driving over to see a cop, you know it's him."

Rick sighed heavily, the breath huffing out through his nose, and gave a small nod. "Yeah, and Jules with him." He wasn't sure if he meant Higgins could be in danger or that she was just as capable of attracting trouble as Magnum.

The silly thing was, with the training they had both had, Magnum and Higgins were both perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Or each other, should the circumstances call for it. But, given their propensity for tumbling into the most unlikely and dangerous situations, it was impossible for the people who cared about them not to start worrying as soon as anything seemed to be going wrong.

And that's what the two men did. Katsumoto, having to follow rules and regulations before being able to track down civilians, would take a while to get back to them with a location. There were plenty of things they could be getting on with in the meantime, La Mariana didn't run itself, but they settled for staring at the phone and willing it to ring. 

When it finally did, Katsumoto's name flashing up on the screen, they both lunged forward to answer it, Rick beating T.C. by a millimeter.

"Did you find them?" he asked, even as he was poking the speaker button.

"We've got a location on Magnum's cell, but it doesn't make a lot of sense. It's an old business park that was caught up in a landslide a few months back. It's been closed ever since, some sort of issue with subsidence." A quiet bang came over the line; it sounded a lot like a car door closing.

"Text us the address; we'll meet you there." T.C. didn't need to ask if Katsumoto was on his way to the business park or not; he knew the detective would be just as worried about the missing pair as he and Rick were. He grabbed his keys from the bar, knowing his van would be much better suited than Rick's Porsche to travel the kind of terrain a landslide would have left behind. He heard his phone chirp with an incoming text as he half ran across the parking lot and didn't need to look to know that Rick was right behind him.

It didn't take even half as long as it should have for them to get to the ruined road, blocked off by a handful of police cars close to the junction and a giant crack in the asphalt further up. A tree seemed to have walked itself into the left-hand lane and then given up and settled back down again, and a small stream was happily tripping over the rocks that the landslide had carried down from the nearby hill.

It would have been almost peaceful if it weren't for the amount of police officers visible a little further along. Something seemed to be going on at the gates leading to the parking lot and Rick and T.C. left the van, waved through the small cordon by a tense-looking young man. They caught sight of Katsumoto and hurried over to him, passing five men, all wearing handcuffs, being escorted down toward the cars.

"What's going on? Did you find them?" Rick called as soon as they were close enough. His stomach twisted at the look on Katsumoto's face.

"We found these guys searching the buildings. We're pretty sure they've been stealing and stripping high-end cars around the island for a few months now." There was something he wasn't telling them. Something bad. They could see it on his face. He put his hands on his hips and sighed, clearly not liking what he was about to tell them. "One of those guys just told us they were looking for a nosey P.I. and his girlfriend. That they caught them snooping around earlier and that they escaped a little while ago."

"Well, that's good, right? That they escaped?" Rick didn't sound as enthusiastic as the words were meant to be. In fact, he sounded as though he was dreading the next words Katsumoto was going to say.

"He took us to the room where they'd held the couple. And told us they had tried to interrogate them." He looked furious, a feeling Rick and T.C. were struggling to suppress too. They both knew exactly what Katsumoto meant, what it was like to be terrified for the life of someone you cared about, what Magnum and Higgins would have gone through.

T.C. took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Did he tell you what they did?"

Katsumoto shook his head. "Not in detail. But he did say they were all shocked that they managed to get away.” He paused again, apparently considering whether or not to share all the information he had with the men in front of him. Finally, he sighed again, and Rick and T.C. both felt their stomachs twist with anxiety.

“They gave Magnum something, a drug of some kind. Apparently it acts a little like a truth serum in some people, and they thought it was worth a try when… when he didn’t say anything while they were beating Higgins.” The detective gave them both a look that neither of them could decipher. “Magnum is drugged and Higgins is injured, and that’s the best case scenario."

The silence that followed dragged on, with all three men trying not to dwell on the worst case scenarios, trying not to picture their friends dead in a corner somewhere.

“How can we help?” T.C. looked at Katsumoto expectantly, and Rick’s facial expression was identical.

“Pick a building and start searching the rooms. They could be anywhere.”

...

T.C. was opening every door on the left-hand side of the corridor while Rick checked every room on the right. They had been on their way to the stairs to check the second floor when T.C. had frozen, one balled fist jumping into the air to tell Rick to hold fast.

A quick gesture, two fingers pointing to the right, and they were clearing the rooms the two officers had just finished checking.

“I’m telling you, sir, I checked every room in this corridor.”

“And I’m telling you I heard something.” T.C. wasn’t at all fazed by the tone of the young sargeant’s voice or the glare that was being directed his way. He knew he had heard a clatter of some sort, like something small falling. The sort of something that someone might hit if they were injured and exhausted and desperately trying not to make any noise. He steadfastly ignored the injured expression the officer was wearing, focusing instead on making sure he didn’t miss anything that might point him toward his missing friends.

When Rick gave a yell and dove into a storage cupboard, T.C. didn’t even throw the young officer a triumphant look. He might have muttered “told ya so” under his breath as he hurried to the door of the small room, but really, who wouldn’t? And then he moved past some boxes, careful not to step on the empty spray bottle that seemed to have been knocked over, and saw his friends, and he forgot the officer was even there.

Magnum had a cut on his left cheek, lining the bone, that looked swollen and sore. He was barely awake, his eyes unfocused and blinking slowly. One hand was raised, like he was trying to ward off some danger, and he seemed to be trying to shield Higgins from Rick. 

T.C. stayed where he was, frozen to the spot. He could see bruises on Higgins' face and could hear the wheezing deep in her throat that told him she needed a hospital. But he was afraid to move and make things worse. If he startled Magnum, if Magnum moved the arm that was looped around Higgins, things could get very bad very quickly.

"Tommy?" Rick's voice was soft, belying the tension in his body. "You're okay, brother." He moved his hand, lifting it from where he had been reaching for Higgins, so Magnum could see it. He brought his other hand up to join it, mimicking a gesture of surrender. He kept both hands very, very still, making sure Magnum was looking at them.

"It's okay now. It's just Rick. We found you." Rick watched as Magnum's hand, still waving weakly at the air as if trying to warn him off, dropped slightly. But he had no way of knowing if Magnum had recognized that he wasn't a threat or if his friend just couldn't keep his hand up any longer.

"I wanna make sure Jules is okay." Rick was very careful to keep his voice soft and level. "Is that okay, Tommy? Can I check on Jules?" And Rick waited, keeping his hands in plain view, keeping still, keeping quiet.

Magnum seemed to be struggling with something. One cheek twitched as his eyes narrowed, his classic 'I'm thinking something complicated' face. But it was accompanied by a grimace that twisted his mouth. 

"Rick?" It was hardly even a sound, the click of the 'k' the only proof that Magnum hadn't just mouthed the word. "Quiet." Barely even a whisper. Even Rick, right next to Magnum, had to strain to catch his voice. To T.C., it looked like he was just moving his lips.

"We'll be quiet, Tommy. We'll be really quiet." Rick was nodding as he spoke, trying to reassure Magnum, trying to penetrate the air of fear and confusion hanging over him. He watched as Magnum wrestled with what he was hearing. The emotions that were passing over Magnum’s face were clear, easy to read.

First was fear, like he felt as though everything in the world was a threat, that he was never going to be safe, never going to be able to keep Higgins safe. And the way his arm shifted slightly, the way his shoulders were still tilted down as if to cover Higgins, told Rick that her safety was playing on his friend’s mind.

But then a wary expression flickered over Magnum’s face, like he wanted to believe Rick really wasn’t a threat. As Rick watched, the expression grew, and he knew Magnum wanted desperately to believe there was someone there with him who was going to help. He took a chance, and lowered one hand, reaching out toward Magnum.

“I’m right here, Tommy. T.C.’s here with me, too.” There was a spark of recognition in Magnum’s eyes, and he lifted his head and met Rick’s gaze.

“Rick?” It was almost surprising to hear his voice so clearly after the quiet of the last few minutes. “Rick.” And the questioning tone was gone now.

“That’s right.” Rick made a point of keeping his voice low, matching Magnum’s volume. “How you doing there?” 

Magnum glanced down at Higgins, still unconscious. She hadn’t reacted to the conversation going on in any way. His hand slid over her shoulder to her throat and pressed against the pulse point again, resting his fingers there for second after second. Magnum almost seemed to be falling asleep even while he was so focused on Higgins and that tiny sign of life, and Rick’s stomach clenched as he watched, remembering where he had seen this before.

Magnum had done the same thing to Nuzo while they had been in the camp. One of the guards had taken a disliking to the New Yorker and his attitude. While he didn’t understand Nuzo’s comments, he recognized the tone of Nuzo’s voice, knew he was offering sarcastic comments, and didn’t appreciate the way the man kept cracking wise. The guard had come in late one night, long after the moon had risen, and he had dragged Nuzo out of the cage the four of them were being kept in. Nuzo had been waved out of the room at the end of a gun, and the other three men had spent the next two days counting the hours as they crawled by, trying not to focus on the fact that their friend might never come back.

When two guards had walked in, dragging Nuzo between them, they had all thought he was dead. He was ghostly white, blood staining his skin, and they couldn’t see his chest moving at all. He’d been dropped in front of the door to their cell, and all three of them had surged toward him, only to be waved back by the guard’s rifle. The guard had stood there for what felt like hours, grinning at them, at the fear and worry on their faces. When he finally left and they had been able to check that Nuzo was still breathing, all three of them had been forced to take a second before they could move him. It had taken both T.C. and Rick to carry Nuzo back into the cell, Magnum too weak from a fever to be any help.

While Rick had set about trying to clean Nuzo’s wounds and T.C. had torn some bandages from his filthy jacket, Magnum had simply sat there, too dazed to move much, and held his fingers against Nuzo’s throat. The entire time that Rick and T.C. were trying to stop the wound on his head from bleeding, trying to wrap his broken wrist, trying to rub some warmth back into his frozen feet, Magnum’s fingers had been sitting up against Nuzo’s pulse. 

Every few minutes, Magnum had muttered, “He’s still here,” and, at first, Rick had thought he was trying to encourage him and T.C. not to give up their first aid attempts. But, after a while, he realized Magnum was reassuring himself that they hadn’t lost Nuzo, that he was hanging on, still fighting.

As he sat there and stared at Magnum’s fingers as they rested against Higgins’ neck, Rick realized just how terribly afraid Magnum had been for her. 

“Is she still here, Tommy?” 

Magnum’s head jerked up at the quiet question, his eyes wide, and he stared for a long few seconds.

“Yeah,” he managed finally, his eyes finally leaving Rick’s and wandering over to where T.C. was still standing by the boxes. “Yeah, she’s still here.” And just like that, Magnum seemed to snap back to reality. “She needs to go to the hospital. There’s something wrong. Something serious.” He tried to move, but he jostled Higgins as he did and her mouth opened in a gasp of pain that made him freeze.

“It’s okay,” Rick soothed, not liking the way Magnum’s face lost every hint of color. “Katsumoto called an ambulance. It should be here really soon. They can take care of Jules.”

Magnum was staring down at Higgins, mouth moving but no words coming out. He shook his head slightly, brow furrowing, and sucked in a noisy breath. Rick reached out and put his hand on Magnum's shoulder, making him flinch violently.

"She's okay, Tommy. She's still here."

Magnum looked at Rick, then over to T.C., and looked as though he was going to say something. Instead of words, his breath rushed out through his parted lips, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped, unconscious, against the wall. 

…

"Magnum?"

There was a strange beeping noise. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it needed to stop. Was it off to the right? Or the left? He couldn't tell. Everything seemed fuzzy and distant. It was too loud, he knew that much. There was no way the men chasing them were going to miss hearing it.

Wait. He could feel his face scrunching up. Them? He was just him. Who was them? And why was the thought making him feel antsy and on edge?

"It's okay, Thomas."

Clearly whoever was talking was just trying to get them caught. And this was getting frustrating now. Them? Them them them. If he was just him, then them must mean someone else. But who? He tried to wrack his brain but his head was feeling light and shadows were flickering about him.

"Hush now; try to relax."

Relax? What was this idiot talking about? He needed to find the beeping thing and shut it up before the carjackers got close enough to hear it. If they found Higgy there was no way she… Higgins? He was holding her. Wasn't he? Hadn't he been holding her? Trying to protect her? Counting the beats of her pulse?

Her pulse. His fingers flexed, looking for smooth, warm skin. Nothing. Something rough and cool was there, taking Higgins' place beneath his hands. Cool. Living skin should be warm. Was this her skin? Was she…?

His eyes were open before he finished the thought, and his hands were flailing. He didn't know if he was looking for whatever was beeping that he so badly needed to silence or for Higgins, who should have been pressed up against him but was missing.

Something warm caught his left hand, and he knew, just knew, that they'd been found. His body tensed, ready to fight to get away, and whipped his head around to stare down his attacker, glaring… at Higgins. Had he just called Higgins an idiot? His body didn't relax, his hands stayed balled up in fists, but his face went slack in confusion.

He looked past her, taking in the white walls, the medical equipment- 'the beepy thing!' his slightly addled-feeling mind supplied happily- the small cup of red jello on the rolling tray. He looked back to Higgins, realizing she was holding his hand, and tried to figure out how she was just by staring.

If he were being honest, he thought she looked awful. Pale and bruised, with a cut high in her hairline that looked swollen and red, and what looked like a handprint over her lower face. She seemed tired too, with dark shadows under her bloodshot eyes. And there were lines on her face that weren't normally there, lines that spoke of stress and pain. 

Movement caught his attention, and he looked back into the room, adrenaline spiking, thinking that he was just confused, that they weren't safe, that she was in such awful danger. But it was Rick and T.C., moving closer to the bed with such relief on their faces that there was just no way he was imagining it.

"Hey," he managed, wincing a little at the dryness in his throat. T.C. shifted, stretched out his arm, and an ice chip appeared by Magnum's mouth. He took it gratefully, relishing the cold water as it trickled down his throat. A pinprick of cold bumped against his lips, and he realized he had closed his eyes, and that T.C. was offering him more ice.

"Thanks." It didn't hurt as much, even after only two ice chips, and he figured there must be an IV somewhere. He didn't care to look for it though. His eyes opened and found Higgins again, seeming unable to look away for long. 

"So you're really awake this time." It sounded almost like she was asking him, but he was pretty sure it wasn't a question and wondered what had been happening since he had hidden them both in that tiny little cupboard. She was smiling. It was a small fragile-looking smile, but it was there. 

"Welcome back." She squeezed his hand gently, a far cry from the pressure he remembered. "It's been a while." That seemed to hurt her to say, and Magnum frowned again.

"How long?" He could see the bruises still, her arm, resting in a sling, was still in a cast; it couldn't have been more than a few days.

"It's been three years, buddy." Rick nodded as he spoke, pursing his lips and wearing his most solemn expression.

"Rick!" Higgins and T.C. both shouted at the same time, but Magnum hardly heard them. His mind was racing, trying to tie what he had just heard with the evidence his eyes were seeing. He glanced at his own hands, seeing broken skin on the knuckles, evidence of the fight he had somehow managed to win after they had untied him. The tiny bruise was still just visible on his arm where the syringe had been pressed down, needle breaking the skin so easily. 

"It's all right, Thomas." It was Higgins. He tried to focus past the odd rushing sound in his ears. "It's only been three days." Her tone made it clear what she thought of Rick's attempt at humor.

"Three… three days?" That didn't sound so good either. 

"Yes. Your idiot friend was trying to be funny."

"Oh, hey now. I'm your idiot friend too!" Rick sounded almost insulted. 

Higgins didn't even look away from Magnum as she responded with, "If this is your idea of a good joke, Magnum can keep you." She did roll her eyes, telling Magnum she really wasn't all that angry.

And then he realized Rick was grinning, an apologetic look on his face.

"C'mon! It felt like years! Waiting for you both to wake up." He held his hands up in a shrug. "Tommy thought it was funny."

Sure enough, Magnum was grinning and, as Rick smiled back, proud of his 'joke,' Magnum actually gave a huff of laughter. Something was twitching in the back of his mind, though. Something… 

"Wait. Both of us? We were both out?"

"The drugs you were given did a real number on you. Your blood pressure kept dropping." There was something in the way she said it, some tone in her voice, that told him Higgins was keeping something back. He looked at her, really looked, and saw she wasn't sitting in the hard plastic chair hospitals usually put out for visitors but a wheelchair.

It all came crashing back over him; the shocking color of her blood as it trickled over her painfully pale skin, the whimpers she had tried so hard to hold back, the feel of her lips beneath his hand as he smothered the cries she couldn't keep in. He didn't even realize he was squeezing her hand until he heard the pain in her voice.

"Easy, Thomas, just breathe. Everything's okay now. I'm okay now."

He couldn't let go of her hand. He couldn't loosen his grip. Their abductors could have killed her. He could have killed her. She could have died tied to that bench or huddled in that cupboard. And his mind couldn't stop thinking it, over and over. She could have died. She could have died. She could have died!

"Stop it now, Magnum. That's quite enough." Her voice was soft and smooth, but there was an order buried beneath the cotton and silk; she expected him to obey her.

And he did. He caught his breath, held it, let it out slowly, and felt the odd surge of panic subside. 

"One of my ribs did something stupid to one of my lungs. And there was some bleeding in some places that really shouldn't be bleeding. I had to have a trifling little amount of surgery, and I'll be taking antibiotics and painkillers for a while. But that's it." Her voice was firm now, telling him to listen to every word, to remember them. 

"What about me?" Magnum wasn't too sure he wanted to know the answer, but Higgins gave him a smile.

"Your last batch of tests came back almost normal. Whatever it was they gave you, it's nearly out of your system."

The knowledge that the drug was still affecting him, even if it was just slightly, meant he could blame it for that rush of panic. It made him feel better, knowing that he wasn't as out of control as he felt.

“And HPD has the guys in custody. They’re charging them with kidnapping and assault and wrongful imprisonment, along with a whole bunch of other things. Katsumoto seemed to be enjoying himself." Rick was grinning again, and Magnum couldn't help but return it.

He quite liked the idea of Katsumoto, who continually insisted they weren't friends, throwing charge after charge at the men who had hurt him and Higgins so badly. 

Rick was still talking, something about keys and bars; even Higgins was smirking now, despite the pain that was starting to grow on her face and the yawn she couldn't quite fight. Magnum didn't worry too much about following the conversation, he just lay back and listened as T.C. suddenly burst into laughter. 

'No need to be quiet any more,' his mind whispered. He joined in the laughter and felt the last of the tension ebb away. 'It's over now.'

**Author's Note:**

> That's better! Whump and fluff and protective boys and ohana and what could be better?


End file.
